The Dark Rose
by Tovaras
Summary: This is a story of my warlock and how she went spiraling down from a holy woman and into her own darkness and madness.
1. Chapter 1

**Rosmary Eledron – The Dark Rose**

_Part One:_

Nervous eyes darted from side to side, watching the people as they passed her by. People of all races and both genders, but it didn't matter to her. They were just as scary either way.

The towering night elfs, looking intimitading no matter what they did. A simple greeting sounded like a threat in her ears. She knew they hated this alliance and she could understand why people didn't trust them either. They were ready to kill anyone to protect their own cause. Or so she had heard…

The short dwarfs, crude in the way they spoke and acted. Not a caring in the world about the welfare of others as long as they got their beer. She had no doubt they would crack a head open if they got in the way of their beverages…

The small gnomes, a look of evil and cunning in their eyes. They claimed their used their engenious nature for the greater good for all, but she didn't believe them what so ever. She knew they were using their invension for something bad. She had heard about the happening in Gnomeregan, about inventions having taken over. Of gnomes going mad…

The large Draenei, even bigger than a night elf and twice as intimidating as one. They faces looked so hard, she found it hard to read them or even understand them. Claiming they came from a different world, having crashed in a ship in Kalimdor. They even claimed to follow the light, but she wasn't sure if she believed that. After all, what was the light anyway..? What was it good for, when it couldn't, or wouldn't, protect it's wielder.

And then there was the humans…

She hissed silently, feeling the sweat form on her brow from the mere thought of humans.

She despised them, thought of them as vermin. If the other races in the alliance were bad, then humans were the lowest of the low. They couldn't be trusted what so ever. They would paint their true intentions with pretty words and then rip you apart, sucking you dry of everything you had…

Nobody was to be trusted.

Even the most honourable of people were filthy creatures that all too easily swayed to the path of evil.

Only darkness could be trusted…

Darkness was eternal, not to be mistaken.

Darkness could hide you, protect you, when the light gave you away and left you to suffer.

She knew all to well the truth to this, she knew that in the end, you stood alone.

She closed her eyes, removing the world from her mind as she tugged her hood further down her face. She wished for darkness so she could slip away without anyone noticing her.

Darkness…

It was her only friend. Always had been, from when she was young and foolish.

She could remember it like it was yesterday.

"The church is all clean now, mother," Rosmary called out as she walked up to her mother, a broom still in her hands. "Shall I go out and see if the stairs and street need a sweeping?"

An elderly woman dressed from top to toe in white nodded as she turned away from the holy symbols on the altar, giving Rosmary a smile. "If you would not mind, dear. After all, the house of the light must look presentable at all times."

Rosmary just nodded eagerly before walking with fast steps towards the exit. The elderly woman smiled before looking lovingly over towards an elderly man that came out from one of the side-rooms. "She is growing up so fast, husband… She has turned into such a lovely young woman…"

"Aye, she is," the man replied as he walked over to his wife, kissing her cheek before smiling down at her. "And one day she will follow on our footsteps and take over this church for us. She will make a fine priestess. She truly has been blessed by the light in every way. Your lovely looks. Your talents in the art of healing."

The woman blushed before smiling up at her husband. "Yes, my dear… She has been blessed in every way possible. She is destined to become something great."

Meanwhile Rosmary was busy sweeping the stairs of the church, humming as she did so. Her long, ebony hair was dancing with every movement, the slight breeze helping in making it dance around her. Her skin was pale, though not unhealthily so. It only helped in enchanting her lovely and fair appearance, making her look like a doll. The white robe belonging to the church of Stratholme only made her look more innocent, even holy, being the reason of many admiring looks from suitors around town.

A husband though had never been on Rosmary's mind. She felt she was married to the church and the light, putting her duties above her own personal life. As long as she had the light and her duties, she thought, she would have no time for a family. It would just have to wait. Besides, she could not marry some commoner. She would have to find a man of the light, a priest like her father perhaps…

She was so caught up in her own duties that she failed to hear the sound of armour and heavy footsteps approach the church until a voice spoke up.

"Excuse me, miss?"

Looking up from her task, stopping the movements from the broom, Rosmary felt her breath catch in her chest as she watched a stranger approach her from the bottom of the stairs.

He was quite the stunner, she thought, admiring the man's look. Long, blonde hair, giving the man a pure look to him. Intense-looking blue eyes, burning with a passion and intensity. A handsome face, though he had a nasty-looking scar on his left cheek. No doubt from battle, Rosmary guessed as she continued to look at the handsome man. The scar didn't really put a dampening on his appearance, if anything he just looked more mature.

Letting her eyes trail from his face, she took in the mighty-looking mace resting on his shoulder, supported by the grip from a strong-looking, gloved hand. His metal armour was clean, the sun making the silvery metal shine because of the reflextion. It looked like he was glowing with an inner light, making him even more pleasant to look at. From his belt was a book, a libram she recogniced, fastened with a solid chain, the symbol on the cover glowing lightly in blue. He was wearing a tabard with the seal of the Silver Hand, so he was without a doubt a paladin. He even had the mark of Lordaeron attatched to the front of his cape. Maybe he was even a part of Uther the Lightbringer's own army…

"Miss?"

Snapping out of her daydream, Rosmary blushed and looked away, smiling shyly. "Pardon me good seer, I didn't mean to stare," she said in a small voice, feeling embarrassed that she had been caught staring in such an obvious way. "I just saw the tabard and I just got intrigued…"

The man chuckled, a deep rumbling sound coming from the depths of the man's throat. Giving her a gentle smile, he used a gloved hand to remove some of the blonde strands of hair away from his face. "Do not feel embarrassed, miss. It is no crime to stare when curious. If anything, I shall take it as a compliment."

Rosmary just nodded slowly as she turned her back against the man, once again caught by surprise by the man's handsome appearance. "Still… It is not suited for a lady to stare. It is not polite either."

"When being stared at by a lady such as yourself, I see nothing wrong with it," the man murmured before chuckling, bringing a hand to his neck nervously as he gave a sheepish smile. "Well now, I seem to have completely forgotten my manners as well," he murmured before bowing deeply for Rosmary. "My name is Emmet Fersot." Peeking up between his blonde hair, he reached out a hand to Rosmary. "May I be so bold and ask for your name?"

Rosmary flushed and nodded, reaching out her own hand to Emmet.. "R-rosmary Eledron. It is an honor to meet you, sir Fersot."

"Rosmary," Emmet murmured and took Rosmary's hand, kissing it lightly. "A lovely and suited name for a flower such as yourself. And believe me, the honour is all mine."

Straighening back up, Emmet gently released Rosmary's hand and smiled. "Now… With the dangers of being rude, might I ask for you to escort me to the tavern? I am afraid I am not very well known around these parts and I'd hate to end up somewhere I am not supposed to."

"Oh? This is your first time in Stratholme?" Rosmary asked, giving the man a curious look.

Emmet nodded while rubbing his neck sheepishly. "Yes, I am afraid so. I was enrolled in the army not long ago and before that, I wasn't very… Well-travelled," he confessed, making Rosmary giggle from the man's bashfulness.

"Very well, I shall help you then," she smiled before walking towards the entrance of the church. "Just wait here, I will just let my parents know!"

"Of course," Emmet replied and bowed before turning around, looking over the city with curiousity.

Smiling, Rosmary placed the broom by the entrance of the church before hurrying inside, eager to ask her parents for permission. Taking a moment to straighten out her clothes at the corner, Rosmary regained her composture before entering the main hall of the church, approaching the man and woman by the altar. "Mother? Father?"

Looking up from the scroll he was reading, Rosmary's father gave his daughter a small smile before nodding. "Yes, dear? Have you finished your chores already?"

Rosmary shook her head before lowering her head ever so slightly. "Not yet, father, but I must ask something off you."

Blinking, Rosmary's father carefully rolled the scroll together again before nodding to his daughter, urging her to continue.

"A man of the light came by the church and asked if I could be so kind to show him to the inn. I promise that I shall start my chores right away after I have done so," Rosmary continued, having difficulties with keeping the excitement out of her voice.

The priest raised an eyebrow as Rosmary spoke, slowly tapping the scroll against his other hand as he weighted his daughter's words. "A man of the light, hmm..?"

Rosmary nodded again while letting a modest smile play on her lips. She didn't want to seem eager, that was not appropriate for a lady. Still, as her father kept silent, she could not help but feel a little impacient.

Finally he nodded and spoke up, a smile of his own playing on his lips. "I can not see what harm that could do, and you have already promised me to do your chores later. And I know you are good for your word, my flower. You have never failed to let me down, not once. And it would be dishonourable to let the young paladin roam around in the city without help. Go, my daughter, and help the servant of the light."

"Yes, father," Rosmary replied and bowed lightly in respect and gratitude. Her heart was already beating hard in her chest as she turned and walked back to speak to the man, eager just to see him again. It frightened her, the way she had already become so interested in him, but she felt it was more curiousity than anything else. While she had seen paladins before, she had never been so close to a man blessed in such a way before and it fascinated her.

Her smile only turned wider when she saw the Paladin still waiting outside for her, having even picked up her broom and finished the rest of the church's stairs for her. "You did not have to do that, kind ser," she called, making the man look up and smile.

"A small price to pay in exchange for a lovely woman showing me around."

Blushing, Rosmary let out a small, nervous giggle as he stopped next to him, reaching out to take the broom from him. "Nonsense, ser," she murmured in a shy voice, looking down as she held the broom in a tight grip in her hands.

Feeling a finger under her chin, lifting her head up, Rosmary let out a small gasp as she found herself locked with Emmet's gaze. He smiled before removing his hand and cleared his throat. "Forgive me, ma'am. I did not mean to get so close and personal. I just… I do not wish to embarrass a lady of the light," he murmured.

Rosmary shook her head and walked over to place the broom next to the church's grey stone wall. "Do not think off it, ser," she replied as she walked back. "Now… You wanted the nearest inn?"

Emmet nodded and bowed for Rosmary, gesturing for her to go before him. "Lead the way, my lady and I shall follow."

The priestess only smiled brightly at that as they walked together into the busy streets of Stratholme, unknowing that this was the day when her whole would change for forever.


	2. Chapter 2

Her eyes narrowed as he watched a young man lead an even younger, innocent looking woman down the street, her hand on his arm.

She hissed in a low voice.

The sight made her sick. Men, having such control over the ladies with just a wink of an eye and a well-chosen word. They were all scum, all just wanting the same, nasty thing. They all just waited for that one opportunity where they could bring their lady home and rid her off her dress, knickers and stockings, putting their filthy hands on their bodies and doing nasty, unholy things.

Not that women were any better, oh no no.

No no, she had seen her share of women playing on their bodies to bend the man to their will. Lowering themselves to a quick tryst in a dark alley. Even making money off it.

Even in times of dire disasters did not ease the lust and darkness that was creeping around in the heart and soul of every living being. Rosmary knew; she had tasted it first hand.

Even the most holy of people could, and would, all too easily submit themselves to darkness.

xoxoxox

Carefully sliding her hand out of Emmet's, Rosmary flashed the young paladin another smile before waving after him. "Stay safe," she called out, earning a happy grin and a wave back before the young paladin snapped the reins and let his mount gallop out of the gates from Stratholme.

Rosmary let out a small, happy sigh, placing her hand over her chest to still her beating heart. Emmet would be back again soon and then they could meet again.

For over two months now the two of them had met, sharing conversations and walks under the moon as they got to know one another.

Sometimes Emmet would leave to go on patrols and training with the rest of the Lightbringers army, but he would always return to Stratholme. He would always return to her.

Though the next time he came would be special. Last night, Emmet had asked Rosmary if he could officially ask her parents for permission to see her so they didn't have to sneak around. He was an honourable man and he didn't wish to shame her by sneaking around and having her break her parents' rules. The thought of Emmet thinking so highly of her made her blush and long for the day when he would return to her side.

Hurrying back to the church, Rosmary allowed herself a moment to calm down before entering the building in silence. She could hear voices inside and she guessed that her father was having a service right now.

Carefully brushing some invisible lint of her robes, she carefully slipped inside, closing the door quietly behind her before moving to the side so she could watch the service. She liked to watch her father preach to the people, to see the love he had for the people and their God. It soothed her, brought a light into her soul that she could carry around with her. It also gave her strength for the question that buzzed around in her mind and while she felt nervous, she was also excited. She just knew that her parents would love Emmet.

She barely noticed it when the people started leaving the church, bowing to her as they left the great hall. She quickly plastered up a bright smile, bidding them good bye, hoping that her cheeks weren't terrible red. She had completely lost herself to her daydream about Emmet and could only pray that her parents hadn't noticed.

As the last person left, Rosmary slowly walked up to her father, gathering the few books with hymns that were left behind after the service. The people were usually very good at bringing them back to the table by the entrance so she only carried five off them once she reached her father.

Her father removed the vestment covering his robes, carefully draping it over his arm before turning, jumping as he spotted his daughter. "Oh, Rosmary. Dear child, you are so quiet, you should warn me when you approach me like that."

Rosmary gave her father a humble smile and bowed her head. "Forgive me, father. I just do not wish to make unnecessary noise in the house of God."

He smiled and placed his hand on Rosmary's shoulder, squeezing it gently. "You are humble, my child. You make me and your mother so proud," he murmured before releasing her, moving past her before gesturing for her to follow. "Put the books at the back," he added quickly as he walked to one of the side-rooms in the church. "And come to my office."

Rosmary nodded and walked quickly to the entrance, placing the books neatly onto the table, even taking the time in making sure that the books were neatly stacked. Once she was done, she followed her father to the back room, knocking on the door before opening it. Her father nodded, carefully straightening out the vestment as it was hung over a knob in the wall. "Now, Rosmary," he murmured, not looking at her as he took his place behind a small desk in the room. "What can I do for you? I can tell something is on your mind, my dear."

Rosmary smiled some, feeling her cheeks redden some from her father's direct question. She should have known that he would realise that she wished for something, she didn't often go to him after service after all, seeing as she had duties to tend to. "You are right," she murmured, placing a hand against her neck, rubbing her fingers nervously over the vein she felt there. "There is… Something I wish to speak to you about."

He tilted his head, studying his daughter silently before nodding for her to go on.

"Father, I have met a man," Rosmary spoke in a quiet voice. "His name is Emmet and he is a Paladin," she added quickly as she saw her father's eyebrow rise in surprise. "I met him outside the church, some time ago. He was lost, a paladin fresh out of his duty and a newcomer to Stratholme. He asked to meet me again for conversations and he now wishes to meet with you and mother so he can properly ask for permission to see me in public." She smiled some, feeling her cheeks tingle. "He does not wish to bring shame on me nor my family by seeing me in secret. He says that is below us both."

She bit her lip as she watched her father frown, wondering if she had gone about this all wrong as he brought a hand to his chin and gently stroked over his skin. She had never done anything like this; this was the first time she had been asked out by a man in her life, despite her being twenty-two. Her status in the town as well as her parents left her all but untouchable to men if her parents didn't find them "holy" enough.

"A paladin, you say?"

Rosmary nodded. "Yes, yes. A holy man, strong in his faith and with a kind heart."

Her father nodded slowly, closing his eyes before turning around, looking out through the window of his small office. "I would like to meet this man," he said finally, after a long stretch of time and with an office so silent that Rosmary could swear that she could hear the flames from the lit candles flicker. "And then I will decide if his worthy of seeing you frequently." He turned around and flashed his daughter a kind, warm smile. "Have him come to my service tomorrow evening, Rosmary, so I can talk to him."

The young priestess' face broke into a huge smile and she resisted the urge to run over to her father and hug him. "Thank you, father," she replied instead, curtseying with a deep, elegant gesture to the priest before hurrying out through the room to continue her duties. Oh, she could not wait until she could tell Emmet the good news!

The paladin wasn't hard to find, conversing with other paladins at the local inn, laughing and enjoying a cold mug with ale after a hard days work chasing orcs.

As she entered, she still found it so amusing and yet so humbling that they all arose from their chairs and gave her a bow, greeting her as "priestess". Still, she smiled at them before looking at Emmet. "I wondered if I could have a word with you, please."

Emmet blinked his eyes before nodding, stepping towards Rosmary. "Certainly, my lady. Shall we step outside?"

"Actually, it is a private matter," Rosmary replied, giving Emmet a small, shy smile. "Could we take it somewhere where we would not be disturbed?"

Emmet looked more worried now, but he hid it quickly with a warm smile and gestured towards the stairs that lead up to the inn's rooms. "Certainly, my lady. Will my room be sufficient for a conversation?"

"It will be perfect."

Not wanting to draw attention to herself, she took her time walking up the stairs, waiting at the top of them so Emmet could show her where his room was. He was right behind her and as soon as he reached the top, he walked to his room, inserting a brass key from his belt-pouch into the lock before opening the door. "After you, my lady."

Rosmary smiled and entered the room. Emmet came right behind her, closing the door behind him before reaching out to take her hand with both of his own. "What is it, dear Rosmary?"

"Oh, Emmet," Rosmary smiled widely and moved to place her free hand on top of Emmet's. "I have wonderful news for us!"

"What is it?"

"I spoke to my father this morning, about what we discussed. He has agreed to meet you and invited you to our service tomorrow morning so he can talk to you."

Emmet smiled back, squeezing her hand. "Oh, that is wonderful news! I am honoured, my dear. Tell him I will happily accept the invitation and I will be there tomorrow, armour shined and faith at the ready."

Rosmary smiled happily and moved to give Emmet a quick hug, though ended it just as fast. It wasn't appropriate for a lady to do such after all. "Then I will see you tomorrow, Emmet," she murmured in a shy voice.

Emmet smiled and gave Rosmary a small bow. "I will look forward to it, my lady."

That evening, Rosmary felt restless, sitting by the window in her room, gazing out over the city while brushing her hair. She was excited about tomorrow, hoping that her father would approve of Emmet.

She had never felt something like this for a man before, but something about Emmet just drew her to him. His charm, his faith… He was handsome, kind and he seemed to wish to be with her as much as she wanted to be with him.

She giggled softly for herself, feeling her cheeks heat up from just thinking about him. She had never really thought about men before, at least not in the way she was thinking about Emmet. A man was to be a provider, a protector of the family first and foremost, that is what she believed. But now… Now she was convinced that Emmet was more than that, that he was the man of her dreams. A gift from God maybe, for being a faithful servant. A rock she could cling to if she felt scared, someone to protect her.

Smiling, she gently reached out and touched her reflection in the mirror. She was truly blessed, having met a man such as him.

"Oh, stop acting like a silly girl, Rosmary," she scolded herself, getting up from the small chair and walked towards her bed. "You have a long day tomorrow and you need to be ready."

As she lied down on her bed though, blowing out the flame from the small lantern resting on the table beside it, she felt that tomorrow just couldn't come fast enough.

"So this is the young man who has asked my permission to see my dear Rosmary."

Rosmary looked down, hands clasped together in front of her while letting her father inspect Emmet with a strict look on his face, going around the paladin as he looked him over.

"You know, she is my only daughter and she is to take over here once her mother and I are gone," he murmured softly.

"I am aware," Emmet replied, looking unfazed, though humble as her father continued to inspect him. "I would not dream of taking her away from her family, nor make her shun her duties and responsibilities. I only wish to be able to see her without bringing shame to her or her family." He gave Rosmary a warm smile. "And, if it should be fitting… To see where our… Relationship takes us next."

Rosmary's father game a small nod, pursing his lips a little as he stopped in front of Emmet, still looking him over. "You are saying you will show her respect. And you are a man devoted to the light. I trust that you know right from wrong. And have a sense of honour and duty."

"As necessary and demanded for any paladin belonging within the Lightbringers ranks," Emmet murmured.

The priest nodded, rubbing his chin, looking directly into Emmet's eyes. Emmet didn't flinch under the gaze, holding his ground with a firm stance.

"I see nothing wrong with you two seeing one another."

Rosmary looked up at her father, smiling widely. "Really, father? You mean that?"

The priest nodded and gestured towards Emmet, allowing Rosmary to step forward. Emmet smiled just as widely, spreading his arms towards Rosmary and taking her into his arms. "Good Father Eledron, I am honoured and blessed that you allow me to see your beautiful daughter," he murmured, hugging her closely.

Rosmary just beamed up at Emmet, her face split into a wide smile. "I promise you, I will treat her right, as she deserves."

xoxoxoxox

Lust.

It was always about lust.

Lust and power.

Respect was a thing of the past. Nobody respected anyone anymore, oh no no no. It was lust and power, the will and desire to dominate. To humiliate. To break. Destroy.

She knew all about it. Had felt it, tasted it.

The vile, bitter taste of darkness, the feeling of being dominated. Broken into pieces and recreated into a toy. A pet.

Nobody was immune against it. Nobody could run and hide from it.

It would find you.

It would always find you.


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note:** This chapter contains rape. Not the act itself as I feel I am not educated enough to convey such a brutal and horrible act, but the terror before and as it happens is written. If this makes you feel uncomfortable in any way, I would suggest not reading.

xoxoxox

_The world never changed, it never would. Not as long as there was filth on the streets._

_Dirty men and filthy whores, fornicating, seducing and violating. Bringing disorder and chaos into what could have been a perfect world._

_She lied, of course._

_The world would never be perfect. Not until all sapient beings were purged from the planet. Nobody was immune, nobody deserved to be spared. They were all disgusting, dirty._

_They were all tainted by the darkness, seduced by the shadows._

_The final judgement would be upon them sooner or later and she would welcome the flames that would cleanse her. That would free her from her own tainted body._

_Nobody would be spared._

_Nobody deserved to be spared._

xoxoxoxox

The time after her father had given his blessing for them to see one another had been nothing short of amazing.

Rosmary was now able to walk with pride down the street, her hand resting on Emmet's strong arm. To be seen with such a strong man, a man with a pure spirit and soul, it made her happy. It made her feel blessed.

Emmet was nothing short of a gentleman, asking her father for permission to pick her up and always delivered her safely back to the church before the sun was down. When he was away, fighting with the Lightbringers, he always wrote.

Sometimes the letters would be late, but that was to be expected. A carrier pigeon or messenger was not always there in the heat of battle.

Instead she would enjoy the letters when they came, even if Emmet was already back and at her side.

They took their sweet time, enjoying each others company, learning one another on a mental plane before Emmet took the next step. Down on one knee and a ring in his hand, he asked for her hand in marriage with only the moon and the stars as witnesses, basked in the faint light from the church.

It was perfect and of course she said yes. She knew she loved Emmet with all her heart and knew that this was the man she wished to spend the rest of her life with.

Her parents were thrilled as well when Emmet asked for their permission to wed Rosmary, and it was only a given that they would wed there in Stratholme. Emmet agreed, having no connections or family anywhere else. "Here," he said, smile wide as he held his fiancée's hand in his. "is my family. My new family"

Rosmary had just beamed up at Emmet, happiness clear on her face.

They had agreed on several things after their engagements; things that simply made sense for both of them.

They wished to be married during spring, when everything was coming to life. The rebirth of all life. The start of their life together. Yes, it was in the middle of autumn so they would have to wait a while, but that was okay. It would give them time to plan everything and make it truly perfect.

They also agreed that they would not join together in a physical way until they were wed. They wanted for their first time to be pure, holy; as husband and wife like it was supposed to be.

Rosmary's father had wanted to perform the ceremony himself, to give them all of his blessings, but he also wanted to walk his only daughter down the aisle.

It didn't take a lot of talking between Emmet and her father before it was decided that they would let a close friend of the family, a priest from Lordaeron, would come and perform the ceremony. Walking Rosmary down the aisle was just something her father would not give up for anything.

Planning for the wedding was something Rosmary was taking great pleasure in doing, humming to herself as she wrote down the list of things to be done as well as the guest list along with Emmet. Must was to be prepared, but figuring out the invitations was the easiest part of the job; her family, close friends and of course Emmet's friends from the army were all invited.

She felt a little shameful for feeling it, but Rosmary also felt a certain pride when she and Emmet could finally walk around the city, Rosmary's hand resting on his arm. She got small, jealous looks from the women from time to time, but far more congratulations, something that filled her with both a sense of joy as well as a smug sense of possessiveness.

Emmet was hers and they knew it.

Eventually Emmet got himself a small house in Stratholme and asked Rosmary to move in with him. She accepted, finding it to be a natural step in their relationship.

Though a bit sooner than expected, having believed they would wait until they were married until they found something, but Emmet said that he could not continue to sleep in a borrowed bed at the church without giving something in return. Especially when there were others that surely needed it more than he did. Besides, surely it was best if they had everything ready once they started their life together as husband and wife?

Rosmary agreed on that and with her parents' blessings, she moved in with him.

He had prepared everything for them, the home was furnished with everything they needed and placed near the church so that Rosmary didn't have far to go when she had duties to attend to.

A room of her own had been prepared next to his as well, so they could honour their wants and decisions until they were wed. Once they were married, his or her room could be made into a study, a guestroom or even a nursery for when that time came.

When away he would send most of his pay for her to either put in the bank or to buy groceries or other things she or they needed, wanting to tend and care for her even when far away.

All of this and more was more than enough for Rosmary to feel like she was the luckiest and the happiest woman alive.

At least for the time being.

The closer they got to the time of their wedding, the tenser Emmet became.

Rosmary could tell that he was under a pressure that he was unwilling to talk about. "Just do not think about it, my dear," he kept saying, giving her a loving smile and a kiss to the cheek.

She was worried about him.

Rosmary knew that there was a lot to do within the Lightbringers army; a new threat had started rising. Something different and far more lethal and unholy than orcs.

There were rumours that the dead had started to rise in the kingdom of Lordaeron.

She tried her very best to make her fiancée relax; she brought him tea, rubbed his feet and shoulders or even sitting next to his resting body, reading out loud from a book of his choice or the bible.

Sometimes she would hold him, caress his face and shoulders, but he responded a little too well to that. They would kiss, slowly at first before Emmet turned more eager, more firm. His hands would grip at her hip or side, or run down her leg, but she would stop him before he did something she did not approve off.

He always apologized then and said that she should leave him be. That he was just tired and needed some rest. She would always nod and give him a kiss good night before retreating to her own room, leaving Emmet to calm down.

That particular situation did not happen often, but for each time it happened Emmet would always go just a little bit further. One more caress, one closer touch to parts she did not approve off. He always did stop though and Rosmary excused it as tension, stress. If the rumours were true then she could more than understand that Emmet needed more contact with the living, something more close and personal than his fellow soldiers could provide. And was it not a good thing that Emmet desired her both as a woman and as a wife even if they could not lay with one another just yet? That he sought contact with her and not some floozy at a bar?

Still, the newfound tension was visible and it made Rosmary worry.

With the tension came drinking.

Emmet had never been a heavy drinker, just mead now and then with his fellow soldiers down at the inn, but now and then had turned into almost every day. While not drunk, Rosmary could smell the alcohol on his breath, especially when he pulled her close for a kiss. She didn't mind that, not really, but it made her sometimes turn her head away with a giggle, making a remark about his breath. When it started Emmet would chuckle with her and apologize, but it became more and more common that he gave her a dark look before releasing her from his arms and walking up to his room without a word.

It worried her, she couldn't deny that, but her worries were usually soothed in the mornings. Emmet would be a ray of sunshine, kiss her good morning and hug her before either he left because of duty or she left for her work at the church.

All in all, despite the tension, Rosmary counted herself as a lucky and blessed woman, and she wouldn't have her life any other way. Besides, tension was normal, was it not? This would be just one of many tests on their relationship and Rosmary was not about to shun away from it.

All too soon Rosmary wished she could take that back, a mere week before she was to wed her beloved Emmet.

It was a rainy night, dark clouds covering the moon and the stars, leaving Stratholme only illuminated by the residents own small lanterns. The heavy rain drummed against the windows, and despite the warmth and light from the fire in the fireplace, Rosmary felt cold. She kept sending glancing towards the door, hoping for Emmet to return as he had promised. She had already pricked her finger three fingers three times with her needle, distracted from her needlework by her thoughts and worries.

When Emmet opened the door with a loud bang, Rosmary jumped from the surprise, dropping her needlepoint onto the floor. "Emmet!"

She turned to look at him, gasping as she saw him just standing in the doorway, drenched. "Oh, don't just stand there, dear! Come in!"

When he didn't move, Rosmary got up from her chair, grabbing a small blanket that was lying on the small couch next to a table by the fireplace and brought it over to Emmet. She carefully wrapped it around his shoulders before carefully brushing the paladin's wet hair away from his face. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. "Emmet, are you alright?"

The hug she received was almost crushing, strong and firm arms wrapped tightly around her waist as he pulled her firmly against his body.

"Emmet?"

Her voice was shaking now as she wrapped her own arms around Emmet's neck, just holding him. He still didn't answer her, only breathed hard against her neck as he buried his face against it.

"Emmet," Rosmary whispered, her hands shaking a little. "You are scaring me, love…"

One arm tightened the grip while the other loosened its hold on the woman's body. A hand trailed over her back, towards her rump before gripping down hard.

"Emmet, what ar-" Rosmary's words were cut short as firm lips were pressed against hers, kissing her hard. She made a muffled protest, hands gripping at Emmet's shirt as she tried to push him away.

Easier said than done.

The kiss ended with a strangled gasp from her and a growl from Emmet as he buried his face against her neck, nipping firmly at her skin with his teeth, fingers gripping and tugging at her clothes. She could hear the growls coming from his throat; the growls of a beast.

This man was not Emmet. This… man, this monster was not her beloved Emmet. Sweet and kind Emmet.

"Emmet, stop it," she cried, trying to pry his strong fingers away from her, but to no avail. Instead she was rewarded with a hand over her mouth as she was forced down onto the couch, the large paladin's body covering her own.

Her screams were muffled by the palm covering her lips, the same palm that had cupped her cheek so very tenderly just a couple of days ago.

When Rosmary heard the fabric of her shirt being ripped open, feeling the cold air over her bare skin, she started screaming harder, feeling terrified. She bit at the hand, clawed and kicked at the man over her, but he didn't ease his grip on her. He did not stop the destruction of her clothes until he was satisfied.

Tears filled her eyes as she felt a rough hand ripped away her brassiere, the fabric digging into her back before it gave way to the paladin's strength. The same hand cupped at her bare breast hard, squeezing it enough to make her whimper in pain. Rough fingers pinched at her nipple while teeth nipped at the other breast, one hand holding her down firmly onto the couch.

This was just horrible, just horrible. Unreal. Rosmary's head was spinning with questions, with fears and doubts. The question that screamed out the loudest was 'why?' Why was he doing this to her? Why was this happening? Why was he not listening to her? Why wasn't he stopping? Why was God letting this happen?

Why, why, why?

Her head was so occupied with questions so when a rough hand started cupping her sex outside her underwear, she let out a muffled gasp of fear against his hand, her body immediately squirming to fight off the unwelcome touch. She started shaking her head, begging Emmet 'please no' with her eyes.

Emmet did not look back at her. He just gripped at the front of her smallclothes, tugging it down her legs before forcefully spreading them with his own body.

The grin on his face as he looked at her naked body terrified her. There was no remorse in his look, no sign of demon-possession. This was Emmet. Her Emmet.

And he was enjoying what he was doing.

His body was still clothed, but when he grinded his groin against her leg, she could feel the hard desire hidden inside his breeches. It was hot against her thigh; she could feel it even through the thick, cotton fabric.

'No,' she thought as she started fighting harder; legs kicking, fingers clawing at his face, nails digging themselves into his skin hard enough to draw blood. That earned her a slap with the hand over her mouth, the sound of his hand connecting with her cheek echoing in her ears. The same hand grabbed at her wrists and pinned them over her head hard while Emmet's mouth was pressed against her lips to silence her screams.

Still, the worse part was yet to come.

Rosmary barely registered that her body was released for the briefest of moments, long enough for Emmet to undo the front of his pants.

It didn't matter. She was paralyzed from the shock and the fear to take advantages off the situation. She felt numb, even if her heart was pounding in her chest, her blood surging in her ears, the tears from her eyes sliding down her cheeks without showing any signs of stopping.

The numbness was not enough to stop the pain that ripped through her body as Emmet pushed himself into her, making her scream.

Once again muffled lips silenced her screams before the only sound that was heard was her muffled whimpers mixed with his grunts of pleasure.

Rosmary squeezed her eyes shut as the man started violating her body.

How could he do this to her…?

Did he not love her?

Had all the sweet words he'd whispered in her ears all been a lie?

As much as the pain ripped through her body from the intrusion into her most sacred parts, the feeling of rough hands on her body, leaving marks that would never go away… It was the pain from being betrayed… The pain of loosing all confidence in the one she had loved with all her heart, watching as he indulged himself in the sins of the flesh with her body.

'Light, why have you forsaken me,' she thought in desperation, having all but given up fighting him. 'Light… Save me…"

But light never came for her, only the pain and humiliation from the act, leaving her feeling dead inside.


	4. Chapter 4

_Every couple lied._

_There was no such thing as "equality" or respect, not from anyone._

_A man will abuse his woman, beat her, rape her, make her his slave. His plaything._

_A woman will go behind her husband's back, fucking someone else, betraying his trust.._

_Love is merely an illusion, oh yes._

_Love weakens, love blinds you and leaves you unable to see before its too late._

_That's why everything had to burn. Everything had to be purged._

_Oh yes, she had seen the signs. Felt the tremors. _

_She could smell the sulphur in the air, taste it on her tongue as she looked from her dark corner, eyeing the disgusting people from her hiding spot._

_Their time would come._

_Oh yes._

xoxoxo

When Rosmary married her beloved Emmet, there was nobody that notices the cracks in the perfect facade.

She was all smiles as she walked down the aisle, radiating with seemingly happiness.

He smiled happily as well, reaching out his hand towards her, calling her beautiful and saying this was the happiest day of his life.

Nobody could see the dark bruises on her sides, hidden underneath her wedding gown.

They gave their "I do's" without hesitation, the kiss looked sweet and loving. And as they stood together as their guest applauded, nobody would have guessed the pain that had happened just two nights before.

Over three months had passes since the night Emmet had claimed Rosmary as his own; taken her with force, demanding and finally having it.

He had left her crying on the couch, unable to move, the shame of what had happened clear in her eyes.

She had hoped it was a dream, prayed that it was just a nightmare, but as night turned into day, she knew it had been real.

She had hoped that Emmet would realise his mistake, apologise to her. Pray for her forgiveness, say something that would make it clear as to -why- this had happened. Anything to make the pain a little easier to handle.

But nothing came.

He got out of bed, ate his breakfast, watching her as she was still laid on the couch, unable to move from the rough handling he had given her. Then he had left, but not before locking her into a room with no windows. He didn't want risking her escaping after all, telling someone about what he had done. That would just ruin everything.

Rosmary knew then that the nightmare wouldn't end with that one act.

Almost every night Emmet would come back and he would repeat it. Sometimes it was just a quick tryst, him breaking her down onto whatever surface that would suffice.

Other times he would take his time, tormenting her and making her beg for mercy. But mercy was never given to her.

Slowly and steadily he broke her down until he had tamed her, threatening her and her parents if she ever breathed a word about what was going on. He abused her, crushed her spirit until he knew that she wouldn't run to her parents for help. In less than a month, he had her broken. He would release her from the "prison", watching her as she returned to the church, serving her parents a perfectly crafted lie about why she had been gone for so long without a word.

'A plea,' she had told them, giving them both reassuring smiles. 'Paladins wishing the aid and warmth a priestess could give them, soothing words and blessings given before and after battles with the wicked undead. A beacon of light to give them strength to press on when everything seemed dark.'

Her parents had nodded and smiled at the poetic words, giving their daughter a proud smile, praising Rosmary for her dedication and hard work.

They had not seen the empty look in her eyes, the way she subtly reached for their hands, wanting to ask for their help, but choking on the words. Because she knew that Emmet was watching her every move.

Soon he didn't have to watch her. He knew that she would behave. Would return to his side, accepting the harsh treatment.

Emmet had never viewed himself as a harsh man, not really. He had a bit of a temper yes, but it served him well in battle.

But there was something that did bother him. In time, the Paladin had felt that his grasp on the light was faltering more and more though, even more so after he met Rosmary and he didn't like it.

He felt it was Rosmary's fault, having tempted and teased him until he had lost his control that first night. She had deserved it. So he took out his frustration on her while holding onto every little bit of control he had over the light.

It was hard work, but he managed. He had control.

He liked control, craving control and this… In his mind, this was just another way of control. Making sure his woman was staying good and true while he was away. At least that was what he kept telling himself. Justifying his means.

He felt no guilt, no remorse in what he had done to her.

Rosmary was a good woman though, a good toy; a perfect doll for him to play with. Behaving and working hard when away. Submissive, and yet fighting ever so slightly when he claimed her.

He wasn't a bad man. He just had needs and Rosmary would have done what he had desired eventually. The only difference was that they now had rings on their fingers.

It was her duty as his wife.

At least that's what he told himself, every time he saw the red marks on his wife's body. Heard the whimpers, the silent pleas, the hurt look in her eyes.

Besides, she wasn't even protesting that hard anymore.

Just when he got very rough.

He was rough though because he liked that, liked that fight in his woman. Meant that she wasn't broken, just tamed.

And Rosmary was tamed, at least for the most part.

She didn't want to see the ugliness inside Emmet. She didn't want his face to get pulled into that horrible sneer, see that darkness in his eyes. She didn't want him to lift his hand and strike her.

She knew she deserved it.

If she had just been a better wife, a better woman… Then he wouldn't have to do it.

That's what he told her. Ever since that first night, that's what he'd said.

And surely people could see it and if they didn't do something, then it had to be so, right?

She just didn't know and that in turn helped prove Emmet's points. That she was stupid, unworthy. A bad wife.

She still prayed though. Every night, before he came to bed, she prayed to the light to save her. She hadn't lost faith, not completely, but for every unanswered prayer and every bad thing Emmet did to her, her hope and faith got smaller.

Like a flame that was slowly choking.

By now, only the dying embers of the once so strong faith was still burning inside her and she was desperately trying to fuel the flame.

But it was hard, so very, very hard…

For weeks, months, she endured the pain, the humiliation as Emmet did what he wanted with her.

A few times she had stopped resisting, hoping it would be over quicker then, but Emmet would always find one way to make her fight. She quickly learned that unless she responded, it would just go on longer and the punishments would be harder.

So she fought when she was supposed to and was submissive the rest of the time.

Nobody suspected anything.

It was hard to understand why someone just couldn't see what was going on, but then again, Emmet had done his job well.

And Rosmary helped covering it up, even without realising it herself.

Emmet had such a good grip on her that despite the fact that Rosmary never left the house, she could still entertain guests.

Her parents visited often and Rosmary would play the part of the perfect wife; happy and feeling the bliss of being home, taking care of the house for her beloved Emmet as well as tending to her husband.

On the rare occasions she happened to have visible bruises, she dismissed it with a laugh, even showing them properly. "I am so clumsy," she would say before telling a well-practiced story of how it happened.

She had done it so many times that lying became second nature.

In time, she didn't even have to practice the stories. She just took them out of the air as naturally as breathing.

She was, in short, turning out perfect for him.

She just needed a little more training, a little more taming.

So as Emmet continued his control, his ways of "teaching Rosmary her place", Rosmary took it all. Everything that Emmet gave her, she took with an almost hungry look in her eyes.

Hungry for affection, for love.

For the approval of her husband.

Just so he didn't have to beat her anymore.

Because if she was good, if she was perfect, then he wouldn't need to do that anymore. Not ever again.

She had still hoped that someone would discover it. That someone could approach her in the brief windows when she was alone and ask if she was okay.

Emmet was away after all, often fighting with his troop and leaving her alone to tend to the house.

She was alone so often. She could speak to someone at so many occasion, but she was afraid.

She was afraid Emmet would find out and become disappointed with her.

She was afraid that Emmet would hurt her or, at worse, leave her.

She couldn't bare the thought of him leaving her.

Besides, Emmet didn't beat her that often anymore.

She was the perfect wife for him, after all. Giving him what he wanted, when he wanted it and however he wanted it.

She cooked, she cleaned, she entertained and she behaved.

She was perfect.

At least she tried to be.

But sometimes panic took over. Sometimes she wanted to get away, she didn't want to be punished for not being good enough, and that's when that beast came out.

That horrible, horrible beast.

The beast that would hurt her, force her down, take her with force... He would make her cry in shame and pain.

And he would enjoy it.

He always enjoyed it.

And Rosmary didn't.

She never had.

xoxoxo

Emmet was still gone the day a man from the Silver Hand came to her door, knocking on it firmly with a gloved hand.

When Rosmary opened it and saw the tabard, she gasped, immediately thinking that something had happened to her husband.

"No, no, your husband is fine," the man had reassured her before gesturing towards the living room. "May I come in, ma'am?"

Rosmary was sceptical, but eventually nodding, opening the door and letting the stranger inside.

"What brings you here," she asked softly, her voice gentle. Careful.

Men... tended to make her nervous these days.

"Forgive me, I am being so rude," the man said, turning to look at Rosmary before bowing.

"My name is James Rowe, I am a paladin with the Silver Hand. I have... Served with your husband, Emmet."

"Is he well," Rosmary asked, gesturing towards the small, lit living room.

"Tea, Ser Rowe?"

"Oh, no thank you," James declined, sitting down onto one of the chairs, the helmet he had held under his arm shifted and placed onto the floor.

"And yes, Emmet is good. He is mostly in high spirits, but I suspect that he is missing his wife."

Rosmary smiled while pouring herself a cup with tea, her hand slightly trembling.

"Well, his wife misses him terribly so if you see him, make sure you tell him."

"I will do so, ma'am, but... I did wish to talk to you," James said in a careful voice, lowering it as if afraid the walls had ears.

"About Emmet. If you will indulge me."

Rosmary raised an eyebrow, carefully adding some sugar and honey into her tea.

"That entirely depends on what you wish to discuss with me, Ser."

"His fellow troop-members are... Concerned about him. Despite being in good spirits when gathered with his fellow paladins, but there is something on his mind. Something... Heavy. I dare say dark."

The paladin leaned a little forward, resting his elbows onto his thighs as he looked at Rosmary.

"Have you noticed anything of the sort, ma'am? Anything... Different about your husband?"

"Different how?" Rosmary asked, a slight frown on her face.

"I have not noticed anything different save from him being a little stressed. There has been a lot of dangerous things going on as of late. Orcs, invaders. It would be enough to make anyone a little stressed, no?"

"Of course, ma'am, forgive me," the man said quickly, placing his hand over his chest and bending his head in a small apologetic gesture.

"I did not mean to insult you, your husband or anything of the sort. I am merely raising a concern that has been a... worry for the troop."

"Well, you have nothing to be worried about here."

"I am glad to hear so," James replied.

"We were happy when Emmet announced his engagement to such a fine woman such as yourself. He seemed happy, blessed. Calm. We had not seen him like that in quite a bit of time."

"... Oh?"

Rosmary quickly lifted the cup of tea to her lips, nipping at it so the man would not see her biting her bottom lip.

"Oh yes. Emmet is one of our fiercest warriors, but as a paladin... He was starting to lack. We believed he was starting to loose sight of himself, but then it seemed like he found it again. Faith wavering happens from time to time, but it was worrisome... The light was not as responsive to him as it had been."

"I... see," Rosmary said slowly.

"But if he seems all the better now, then I see no reason for concern."

"I would agree, but he has not turned better. He seems more... Aggressive now. I can understand it, he has a wife he wishes to fight and protect, but... We are merely worried."

"Well, there is no reason for concern," Rosmary repeated, placing the cup back onto the table hard.

"So if there was nothing else..?"

"It was not," the paladin said, getting up from his chair after picking his helmet up from the floor.

"Forgive me, ma'am, I did not mean to overstay my welcome."

He walked towards the door, but as his hand landed on the door-handle, he turned and looked towards her.

"... But if anything happens, ma'am... Anything at all. Know that you can come to the Silver Hand and get help."

"I will remember that. Thank you, Ser Rowe," Rosmary said, walking towards him so she could see him out.

"Then I bid you a good day, ma'am," James said, bowing his head at her before leaving the house.

Rosmary quickly shut and closed the door behind him before turning and leaning her back against the hard, wooden surface. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her breath was quick and uneven.

So close... It had been so close...

But she wasn't sure exactly what had been "so close"... So close that her Emmet would be caught doing something bad..?

Or so close to grasping a hand that was reaching out towards her, wanting to help her out of the darkness Emmet was covering her in.

She honestly did not know.

And that thought frightened her.

xoxoxo

_Fire would rain from the sky. Fire and brimstone and lava and sulphur._

_Everything would burn. Everyone would burn._

_Everyone._

_From the lowest rat trying to crawl into their little holes to the mightiest king, hiding in his fortress._

_Nothing could withstand the fire and flames from the mightiest of hell._

_Everything would burn._

_The dirt, the grim, the disgusting slime that was covering their world._

_Yes..._

_Yes..._

_Everything would burn._

_Soon._

_So very, very soon._


End file.
